Stash to Treasure: Pink

Last summer I sewed several small square tablecloths for a wedding reception.  This project left me with some significant scraps of pale pink crepe.  In our male-dominated household, there's not a great deal of demand for pink items, so the stack has been sitting in my sewing nook since then.  But I have finally found some purpose for pinkness.

First, I sewed a dress for a friend's baby that is on the way.  Baby dresses are so fun.  I bought the Sunrise Designs pattern, which seems to be off the market now, when I still hoped I might need it for my own family.  But I've had a great time using it for others.  Most of the pieces of this dress came from the smallest scraps, and did not make a significant dent in the pink stack, so I tried something for me.

Okay, so the skirt, from Simplicity 2416, is not that exciting.  When I first put it on, it looked more like an apron than a graceful faux wrap skirt.  But it used a few of the larger pieces of the stack.  And I'm quite pleased with the blouse I made to go with it:

I used Simplicity 2936 and an embroidered linen blend, and it is perfect.

Now, as it turns out, my boys have not always been averse to pinkness.  I think all four of them have claimed pink as a favorite color at some time.  So I asked each if he would like a pink bow tie.  The Caterpillar said that he probably would not wear one, which was fine.  The others clearly said "Yes," so I planned to make three.  I started with one bow tie, which turned out nicely, and offered it to the younger boys.  Each denied any desire or interest in a pink bow tie.  I was a bit miffed, but put it away for the future.

Lo and behold, Scoot asked to wear the pink bow tie yesterday.

Aren't we a lovely couple?  Note: Scoot was standing on a step.  He is not that tall.  Yet.

I still have plenty of pink.  Any requests?

My Favorite Tulips

Every spring I look forward to the blooming of my

Angelique tulips.

I love their plethora of petals, subtly shaded with pink.

They won't last much longer outside,

so I'll leave some here for you!

The Great White Hunter Returns from the Kill

His practiced eye spotted it from afar. 

I could not read the signs.  I would never have noticed it was there.  But he knew, and with gleaming eyes set out to bag his quarry.

The Great White.

He spared me the grisly details of the battle, but I know his intensity in the chase.  He returned triumphantly with this magnificent specimen.  I've never seen one this size before.  And the weapon is just for show.  He actually took it down with his bare hands. 

That's why we call him...

Dandelionslayer.

"Where's the Mommy?"

     We recently hosted a young guest for a few hours.  He had fallen asleep on the way to our house, and woke as his mother was gently placing him on a bed.  He was understandably upset, and reluctant at first to come to my arms instead.  But he was soon soothed as he watched me fix what turned out to be the same kind of dinner he had just eaten, and calmly took his place at our table.

     Some squabbling among the boys during dinner disturbed his equilibrium, however.  After the meal, he tearfully asked to follow the boys outside to play.  I found him a jacket and tried to deliver him to Dandelionslayer's side, but the child would not allow me to retreat to the dishwasher.  He wanted me to stay near him.  Eventually he became involved in the Frisbee tossing, and I managed to slip away.  But when everyone came inside again, he began to ask a question fretfully.  Something about Mommy.  "She's not here; she'll be back soon," the boys assured him.  But that was not quite what he was asking.

     "Where's the mommy?" the toddler repeated.

     He needed to see me again.  He knew his own mother was not available, but that there was another mommy who could comfort him for the time being.

     Children can recognize someone with a "mother heart," as Julie B. Beck put it.  Someone who can comfort and nurture.  Someone who will wipe their tears, or other spills.  Someone they can trust. 

     Our Father in Heaven has sent us to this earth in various situations.  My mother was the best for me, of course, and I'm trying to be the best mother for my children.  But caring is not restricted to literal mothers.  I am grateful for the grandmothers, aunts, teachers, and friends who help my boys feel safe and loved, and who guide me along, too.

     Today I salute all the mommies!  Thank you for your loving service.

Rollo is Eight!

And it has been great. 

He was so excited about his birthday that he was the first to wake up that morning, bright and early.

Consequently, he fell fast asleep in the car on the way to his first Wolf den meeting.  But he bravely woke up and joined the party.

And he was still awake enough to open gifts, after everyone else was home from baseball and Scouts.

He enjoyed the lemon-flavored figure-8 race track cake that he requested.

Since Rollo has an almost-Easter birthday, Grandma and Grandpa G came for some egg-dying,

story-reading,

and project-building.

Ahoy!

Best of all, Rollo chose to be baptized

into The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

We couldn't be more pleased. 

He is a wonderful boy, and we're so happy that he is in our family!

Stash to Treasure: Ballgame Baby Blanket

'Tis springtime, and my thoughts turn to...

...baby showers!  Well, I haven't been invited to any yet, but some local friends are having babies this year, so it's a possibility.  Anyway, I enjoyed making this little blanket with heart-warming pajama flannel from my stash.  I consulted these instructions from Cluck Cluck Sew for constructing the blocks.  Connecting unfaded red flannel with white was risky, of course.  But I countered the risk with Shout Color Catcher sheets.  I washed the blanket four times, with a new sheet each time.  The sheets turned progressively less pink, until the last was not pink at all.  The bleeding was contained to a few small pink spots on the back near some of the ties.  That's nearly miraculous, in my book.

I hope this will keep a future baseball player (or popcorn eater, at least) cozy and warm!

Our Fabulous Island Getaway!

When spring break arrived last week, we desperately needed a change of scenery.  So we took a cruise to a foreign island, full of lush foliage and breathtaking views.  We stayed in an all-inclusive cottage in a waterfront resort with exhilarating recreational opportunities.  We sampled local cuisine, served by smiling island girls.

Does this sound too good to be true?

Perhaps I should clarify.

On Wednesday we arrived on the good ship MV Coho. 

It is a spacious vessel, with room for many passengers,

and their vehicles. 

De plane!  De plane!

The cottage was all-inclusive because it had beds for all six of us, in one unit, for a decent price.  Such can be difficult to find, you know.  And it was comfortable.

The Riverside Resort (Motel and Campground) perches on the banks of the Little Qualicum River.

It boasts a water slide and a miniature golf course, which looked pretty fun.  Naturally, they were closed for the season.  But the boys had a surprisingly good time on this playground.

The foliage was lush, but not exactly tropical.

And the island girls who served us pizza and fish and chips were blond.

That's right.  In our search for spring, we traveled to
Vancouver Island, British Columbia.
We did need our passports!

Our first stop was the town museum in Sidney-by-the-Sea.  It was no Legoland, but the special Lego displays inspired awe and covetousness.  The local history was also interesting.  D2 paid special attention to the model train that was being repaired, and there was a great Buster Keaton movie playing continuously.

Then we drove further north.  Here we look over the Saanich Inlet toward Sidney and the eastern Gulf Islands, from the beautiful Malahat Drive.

We stayed in a town called Qualicum Beach, which seems to be mostly populated by seagulls at this time of year.  Brant geese were supposed to be passing through, but we didn't see any.  Which is just as well.

Scoot would have considered them to be good targets. 

The boys spent a happy hour or two on the beach, throwing rocks. 

(Yes, this is the real beach.  The paradisiacal scene at the top of this post was a picture hanging on the wall of our luxury cottage.)

On Thursday, the sun came out, and we set off to explore.  We found our way to Petroglyph Park, encircled by the suburbs of Nanaimo.  The park preserves carvings left by First Nation artists, or shamans, or bored teenagers--it's hard to tell what they intended.  First, well, after you climb some rocks, you find some concrete casts, copies of the petroglyphs for those who like to touch things.  I think they have been touched, a lot, since I really couldn't see much shape in them.  I began to doubt that the actual petroglyphs would be much to look at.

I was wrong.  Enhanced by the native moss, the collection was easy to see, and quite impressive.  The signs identified many of these figures as mystic sea-wolves.

But even I can tell this is a flounder. 

Something for the sea-wolves to eat, I guess.

We went into Nanaimo for a picnic (and more running around)

in this harbor park.

Just up the hill was the Bastion, the oldest surviving building from Nanaimo's coal-mining days.  It is not large, but apparently provided refuge for up to fifty people from time to time.

The Bastion never participated in a pitched battle,

but it is important to be prepared.

We headed inland, where we found that the Little Qualicum River, which flows so placidly next to our resort, is a bit more turbulent upstream.

The water falls in a minty-fresh froth of white and green,

tumbles around a bend,

pauses for reflection, then tumbles down again.

The easy trail follows the fenced cliff closely, crosses a bridge, and heads up the other side for another view.

My treasure at the end of the rainbow.

The river was just gorgeous.

Friday dawned rainily, and it was time to head home again. 

On the way we stopped at Milner Gardens to enjoy more springlike foliage,

and review our identification of native plants.

We also visited the farmyard and sampled the dairy delights of the Little Qualicum Cheeseworks.

And then we hurried back to Victoria to catch the ferry home.

So, the island was neither very distant nor very exotic, but it was beautiful.  And our brief spring break there was refreshing.